Toil and Trouble
by sanitynvrfoundme
Summary: A young apprentice witch meets Macbeth, falls in love, and then discovers he is doomed to die. Can she save him, or will destiny run its course?


The dialogue in this story is a combination of Shakespeare's actual text, and a few conversations created by me that did not actually take place. Hope you enjoy, and reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome!

People don't know a lot about witches. They think any witch can do spells, can change themselves into bats and black cats or turn people into toads with a wave of their hands. That's not true. I would know. I'm a witch.

Nowadays I always find myself wondering how I ended up out on the windblown heath with my sisters. Well, if you want to delve into technicalities they are not actually direct kin to me, but as they are basically the only people I have clear memories of from my childhood, in addition to my surrogate mother, Nocte, I call them my sisters. Allegria and Alecta. Both elder and infinitely more beautiful and talented than I, as I am only an apprentice and have not yet dropped my common name, Rose. As soon as I turn 18, I will, but for now, I am simply Luna Rose and had no warning when I was summoned, along with my sisters, to the chambers of our Queen Hecate.

I never expected at my young age, to take part in an etala, a display of one's witchly talents, on the heath with my sisters. We were to travel there and perform an etala of our individual talents, my sisters' being potion-making, mine being the art of prophecy. And when Hecate commands, all witches obey.

So, a few days later, we chanted a simple incantation and traveled on the wind to the barren heaths. Clad in our best black robes, my sisters both looked beautiful, as always, but I just looked out of place, with my black hair, pale skin and violet eyes.

My sisters began the display immediately, conjuring up crashing thunder and crackling lightning. I stood on the sidelines, feeling incredibly odd, mostly watching the paths the lightning tracked in the dusky air. That was when I saw him. A man walking down the misty path that would lead right into our midst. He was tall, broad-shouldered and good-looking, as I realized as he began to emerge from the mist. I saw another man next to him, with brown locks, slightly shorter than the first and not so regal-looking. But the first man was handsome.

"Sisters!" I cried. "Two mortals approach!"

The two of them looked at me, not used to being interrupted by their lowly little sister. Alecta was about to speak, but Allegria held up her hand as she caught a glimpse of the two men. "And what do you suggest we do?"

"Shall we turn them into warty toads?" Alecta cackled. Between my two sisters, she was the one I felt enjoyed the evil aspects of witchcraft most. Allegria's job, as the eldest, was to keep her in check.

"Hush, Alecta," Allegria said. "Rose? What should we do with these poor mortal men?"

I was astonished. Decisions never rested on my shoulders. But I spoke, haltingly. "We should reveal ourselves. Hecate did say to perform an etala, did she not? I will prophesize for them." I was shocked at my own nerve, even more at the fact that I had offered to reveal the gift that I often kept veiled.

"A very good plan, little one," Allegria said. She muttered a charm, and suddenly we became visible to the two men that were almost upon us. They both gasped, and the handsome one drew his sword. I could see, in the emerging moonlight, that he had coal-black hair and piercing green eyes. I felt a strange sensation inside that I was not accustomed to, not knowing that later it would condemn me. Now I stared with curiosity at the pair and trying to reveal a prophecy, desperately.

"Speak, if you can," he whispered. "What strange creatures are you that do assault my eyes?"

"All hail Macbeth!" Allegria cried. That was his name! "Hail to you, Thane of Glamis!" Alecta followed, crying "Hail to you, Thane of Cawdor!"

Suddenly, I saw, in an instant, the handsome man, sitting in a gilded throne with a crown on his head. Like I was possessed, my mouth moved of its own accord, and I called, "All hail Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!" My sisters and Macbeth stared at me like I had just sprouted horns.

But Macbeth's companion laughed. "My good sir, why do you start and seem to fear things that do sound so fair?" He turned to us. "Tell me in the name of truth, are you merely illusions, or are you indeed what you seem to be? You greet my noble friend with honors and talk of a future so glorious that he seems speechless. But speak not to me. I want not your favors and I fear not your hatred."

But it was not to be. I felt a prophecy approaching, whether this cocky man wished it or not. My sisters sensed it too.

"Hail!" they chimed in unison, and a series of images flashed into my mind.

"You are lesser than Macbeth, but greater." I chanted. "Not as happy, yet much happier. Your descendants shall be kings, though thou be none. All hail, Macbeth and Banquo!" With that, I bowed to the pair and made to dance away towards the cauldron. It was time for Allegria to take over the show. But something held my gaze. Macbeth's green eyes. They hypnotized me, transfixed me and seemed to bore holes into my own. I approached him, trembling.

"Stay," he commanded.

I was trapped between my sisters beckoning me and Macbeth's spellbinding eyes. With a flash of light, they disappeared, expecting me to follow, but I could not.

"Please," Macbeth said, "tell me more. Why do you stop our way with such prophetic greeting?"

I had to break away. My sisters would be worried and so would the whole clan. I tore myself away from the green eyes and turned toward the spot where Allegria and Alecta had vanished, about to chant the spell that would send me spinning away towards home.

But warm fingers grasped my arm, sending electricity racing up and down my spine. Macbeth! I turned to him, and my heart ached to go with him and lose myself in his eyes. "I must go," I whispered, but still he held my arm.

"At least tell me your name," Macbeth said, and I had to comply.

"Luna Rose," I said, then pulled away.

Just before the world began to spin, I heard Macbeth whisper, "I wish that they had stayed!"

I knew there was many different ways of interpreting that brief comment. But I chose to take the one that my heart told me. Little did I know that it would send me reeling into a web of intricate plots, lies and deceit, and that my world would never be the same again.


End file.
